Welcome To The Hermit's Desk

May. 15th, 2017

May. 15th, 2017

I slept for 40 hours straight and wake up, for the first time in months and months, rested. Rested and so happy that I feel delirious. I can face the day, or at least the next few hours without cringing, without feeling like I have to grimace and fake having fun.

Seriously, I've cleaned, I've showered, and I'm sitting here weeping because I FEEL SO GODDAMN HAPPY at having my life back, even if it's just for a few hours. I'm laughing on a level that borders on hysterical, broken only by gasping sobs, because this is how it's supposed to be, and for once, life has deemed me worthy of a few hours that doesn't involve crippling illness.

It might not last all day. Chances are that I've got only a handful of hours of this, but goddamn, I'LL TAKE IT.

If Jesse were to wake up right now, he'd see a sobbing madwoman, but it's tears and heaving laughter of nothing but sheer joy and delight. And even if it's just for now, an hour, two hours, before what my life is overtakes me, dear god, I'd forgotten I was able to feel this good at all.

Broken bottles in the hotel lobbySeems to me like I'm just scared of never feelin' it againI know its crazy to believe in silly thingsIt's not that easy...

Maybe it's not all hopeless. Maybe those few hours this morning can bring me to...

High hopesIt takes me back to when we startedHigh hopesWhen you let it go, go out and start again...

Because what I forget so easily, drowning in the day to day struggle, is that I have...WE, as in all of me, to the first breath I drew to the last one I will breathe...

Are like SparksWe are, we are, we are alive...

Maybe I just have to...

Love me harder...

Maybe I have to accept that this year is a new beginning, from the day I landed in the hospital, as a place to start again, to find myself again. It is in a deeper, richer, darker, and brighter place than I could have ever found without this illness wrapped around my DNA. Maybe accepting that doesn't mean losing WHO I was, even it means losing some of what I used to be able to do.

There is madness in this. There is beauty in this. Every struggle before this has left me with something beautiful nestled inside of it, even if it is stitched and scarred. But beautiful.

I must try to not lose sight of this, and when I do, I must begin the active search to find it all over again.

And I'll use you as a focal pointSo I don't lose sight of what I want...

Because this is about love. Love for all the pain, love for all the joy, love for simply having been born, no matter how heartbreaking it can be.

Two words make up the word "heartbroken", and I must remember that "heart" comes before "broken." If I can remember this, then I can know I've...